Love Endgame
by Witch Lisa
Summary: The magical world has been destroyed. Can Severus and Hermione escape England for a new life - together? And what about their spouses? UPDATED.
1. Chapter one

Chapter 1  
  
+++  
  
She was a Muggle again.  
  
Not that she had been a true Muggle to begin with, the woman mused as she looked out the window of her parlor at the cool fall day. As a child, she had felt the small sparks of magic flashing within her, tickling her mind with an unanswered question: Am I different? Why? As she neared the summer of her eleventh birthday, the enchantments roiling through her veins began to pulse with a rhythm that disturbed her sleep and caused interesting accidents during her waking hours. That was when a Hogwarts professor came for a visit and solved the mystery. Professor Severus Snape sat on her mother's flowered sofa in a black Muggle suit that even the pre-teen girl could recognize as both expensive and stylish, sipping a glass of water and giving the family an overview of Hogwarts, the magical community and a condensed history of her new people. It was a relief, really, to finally understand the embers that were popping through her and to know that she would soon learn to harness this newfound power.  
  
When the war ended nearly seven years later and the Muggles defeated Voldemort - making the whole charade of the magical world null and useless -- she was again relieved. No more hiding her magic. The two worlds that she precariously straddled were going to finally come together. Magical and Muggle England as one. She was exceedingly relieved. Relieved, that is, until the decrees began to filter down. Reminiscent of Professor Umbridge's fifth-year missives, Parliament slowly used decree after decree to dismantle the magical world. Most wands were confiscated, unless they were needed for work and research purposes that ostensibly benefited Muggle society. The Ministry's own underage-magic-use, detection technology was used to monitor all witches and wizards in the country. The Weasley's took Harry and a few of their orphaned classmates and fled to America within the first few days after Voldemort died. America was one of the few countries left that was happy to take in Magical citizens -- Arthur knew the end was coming in Britain.  
  
She thought they all knew, if they were to be honest with themselves. She had, however, chosen to stay in England. She wanted to be close to her family, especially after she had lost so much. Her wand was now entwined with several that had belonged to her friends and was wrapped around her wrist as a bracelet. Thus far, no one had asked for it or looked for it. She assumed it was thought lost in the battle. It was comforting to have it around her wrist - and equally as comforting to have pieces of Neville, Snape and the Patil twins there. She didn't feel quite so alone in this Muggle world.  
  
Because try as she might, she would never be a Muggle again. Oh, she had the lovely semi-detached, three bedroom house, with a lovely lounge, a stiffly formal dining room, elegant master bedroom and a small yet spectacular rear garden that would put the Muggle "Ground Force" team to shame. She wore the Muggle designer clothes with the right labels with the appropriate, tasteful jewelry. She drove an immaculately clean new car. She carried the right handbag and ate at the right restaurants. But it was all a game: A game of survival. No matter how many decrees were set down, no matter how many years it had been since she had muttered a spell or transfigured an object - and no matter how hard she tried to look and act "normal," she simply wasn't a Muggle. She was a witch.  
  
And that was why she was standing, looking out her parlor window on a cool fall day instead of getting out and enjoying the fine weather. Her eyes drifted from their contemplation of the cloudless sky to land on the man meticulously arranging box after box into the boot of his immaculate car. She was a witch and that is why he was leaving.  
  
The woman sighed. She didn't blame him, really. They had married two years after the war, during a time that she now called her "I'm a Muggle, dammit" phase. They had met in a chemistry class at university and Jeff had immediately asked her to join him that Friday for dinner and a film. She liked him - hell, if she were to be honest - she loved him. But, Jeff was a Muggle and she was a witch and in today's world it just wasn't destined to work no matter how hard they both had tried. And she recognized that her attitude toward life wasn't helping the situation, either. She had been disheartened with her career prospects since she finished her studies at Oxford and realized she would truly never be a Potions Mistress as she had planned. She had become depressed when her husband had caught her using wandless magic one evening to clean up the remains of an exploded pressure cooker in the kitchen and he had berated her for risking jail and their reputations in order to avoid "work." And she had spent a week in near catatonic stupor when she and Jeff saw her six-month-old daughter, Elizabeth, levitate a toy from a tidy cabinet in the lounge to where she lay on her Teletubbies blanket in front of the telly; and Jeff had broken down at the thought of his offspring being "one of them" and therefore open to bigotry and persecution. She didn't blame him. Not anymore. In fact, she loved him despite it all, which is why she was crying while she stood at the window watching him drive away. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, shifted her sleeping daughter in her arms and wept.  
  
A soft "plop" behind her nearly an hour later brought her out of her distressed stupor. She turned to see a tall, thin man leaning against the archway between the lounge and dining room. Hands in the pockets of his Muggle jeans and wearing a Muggle football jersey, he looked entirely, well, Muggle. She knew differently, however. After all, Severus Snape was the wizard leading the underground railroad of sorts that was assisting witches and wizards on their way to magic-friendly countries like America and Italy. He was the man who discovered how to block any detection of wandless magic so that the wizarding community - what was left of it, that is - wouldn't be left entirely helpless in the Muggle world. He had also become a friend over the years, as she secretly met with him - first to plan the rebirth of a secret magical community in England and then, when that idea was proven to be hopeless, to help plan the mass exodus from their homeland. He was as Muggle as she was, she thought, snorting. She finally met his intense, worried gaze with her own watery eyes.  
  
"I take it that Mr. Harrison has left," he said. She simply nodded. "I am sorry, Hermione. But, perhaps, in the end, it will be for the best."  
  
"Don't, Severus," she said. "Don't start telling me that there are more fish in the ocean and I'll find someone else. Right now, I don't want anyone else. I still love Jeff. I just want to be miserable for a while."  
  
She quirked a half-smile at him, which he returned.  
  
"I thought you might like some time alone," he said. "I asked your mother this morning if she would watch Lizzie tonight for you. She'll be by to get her in a bit and planned to keep her overnight, if that is all right. Would you like some time alone? Hermione?"  
  
Easing the still-sleeping child from her arms and into a nearby pile of pillows, Hermione shook her head.  
  
"I'm not sure I want to be alone," she said. "Would you think I was being childish if I said I wished Harry and Ron were here? I'd give almost anything to be back at Hogwarts drinking smuggled-in Firewhisky and playing Exploding Snap in the Common Room again."  
  
He laughed and shook his head, walking over to Lizzie's pillow pile and kneeling next to her. He stroked her soft forehead and smiled when she grasped his hand in her sleep.  
  
"No, it's not childish," he said softly. "I wish I were sitting in Dumbledore's office sometimes, drinking overly-sweet tea and being lectured to about my lack of social skills."  
  
"Well, that is one advantage to the past few years," she said, sitting next to her daughter and friend.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"When you had to acclimate to the Muggle world, you had to learn to be civil," she said, shrugging. He mock-glared at her. "Well, it's the truth and you know it."  
  
"So," he finally said, after they had sat worshipping her daughter for a few more moments. "If you don't want to be alone tonight, I could go with you. Make sure you eat some food with your alcohol. Clean up after you throw up said alcohol. Make sure you get home in one piece."  
  
"Wouldn't Sophia be upset?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think so," he replied. "I told her that Jeff was moving out today and she said she'd find something to do with the girls. Honestly, Hermione, I don't think she'd notice if I moved out myself, we're not getting along as well as I would like."  
  
"I am sorry, I didn't know," she began, startled. He interrupted her with a raised hand: "I didn't want to bother you, you are going through enough. I haven't told you until now that we were having problems, because I knew that you would worry."  
  
She sat contemplating her friend for a moment.  
  
"I thought you two were trying to have a baby," she said.  
  
"We were."  
  
"And? What?"  
  
"And we decided it wasn't a good idea to bring a magical child into the world right now, that's what," he said, picking up Lizzie and standing. Wordlessly, he carried her to her room, changed her diaper and replaced her little dress with pajamas. Hermione followed him and watched. Lizzie had awoken during her quick change and was now cooing at Severus and attempting to grab his nose.  
  
"I'm not sure whether to be insulted by your last comment or to feel sorry for you," she said.  
  
"It wasn't an insult, Hermione," he said. "Your mother should be here soon, do you want me to pack Lizzie's bag?"  
  
She sat in the room's rocker and nodded, summoning the bag and necessities to his side. He packed the bag and then placed it and the seven-month-old girl on the floor with some toys.  
  
"I don't want to raise a child in England while conditions are like this for wizards, Hermione," he said. "I'm not judging you and Jeff, but it wasn't the right thing for us."  
  
"And most likely the source of your marital problems?" queried Hermione, softly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The doorbell rang, they gathered up Lizzie and her accoutrements, and headed downstairs. Hermione's mother gave her a firm hug and swift, whispered pep talk before shaking Severus' hand. Lizzie was then kissed and cuddled by both before being deposited into her grandmother's eager arms. The door shut and the pair of friends were left staring at the peep hole.  
  
"Well, shall we?" said Severus, finally. Hermione nodded and moved to get her coat but first waved her hand at her attire. She was suddenly out of her sloppy workout clothes and dressed in denim and a sleek fitting and low- cut top. Severus quirked an eyebrow at her and sent a teasing whistle her way.  
  
"Very funny, Severus," she said, secretly pleased.  
  
"You definitely got your figure back," he said, blushing a bit. "I wasn't sure you would when you were in hospital after Lizzie."  
  
She glared.  
  
"Sorry, but it's the truth," he said, helping her with her retrieved coat. "Your stomach was still huge and you were all squishy. And if you could have seen your ankles yet, you would have been appalled. But, you seem to have gotten your figure back. It *was* supposed to be a compliment, you know."  
  
"Nursing," she said, briskly, picking up her purse and rifling for keys.  
  
"What?" he said, confused, as he locked the door and put a wandless ward on it.  
  
"I'm breastfeeding, nursing, Severus," she said. "It sucks the weight right off of you."  
  
"I'm sure that is more than I wanted to know," he said, taking her hands and Apparating them away to a pub where the jazz was playing softly and a table by the fireplace was calling to them. They walked over, sat down and ordered some fried, greasy food with their first round of drinks. Severus chuckled and pointed out two young men already checking out Hermione's amply displayed assets in the dim firelight of their corner.  
  
"You appear to have admirers, my dear," he murmured to her. She looked and then laughed.  
  
"Well, *I* don't, but it's safe to say my chest does," she laughed. "Another side effect of nursing, I'm afraid. As soon as I'm done, I'll be left with saggy, post-nursing, mommy-boobs."  
  
"Again, I'm sure that is more than I wanted to know," he said, grimacing, as the waitress set down their first round and appetizers. "You *were* my student at one point, you know."  
  
"Don't remind me," she said, throwing back her first shot of the night. "I may just run out of the pub, screaming."  
  
The odd couple laughed together and tucked in to their meal. In less than an hour, the pair was full of greasy food and beginning to feel much better about their lots in life. After a trip to the ladies room, Hermione was stopped and propositioned by a young man who obviously thought she was at the pub getting drunk with her dear old Dad. Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously at the young man after she returned to the table and gleefully told him about that part of the conversation. Hermione just giggled and ordered another round from the waitress and they sunk into a comfortable and rather drunken silence for a few moments.  
  
"Maybe I should take him up on it," she suddenly said.  
  
"Take who up on what?" Severus slurred, wondering exactly how many shots he had consumed already.  
  
"That kid," she said, gesturing towards the young man with her beer glass, sloshing quite a bit onto the floor in the process. "He asked me to go home with him. Maybe I need to get laid. What do you think?"  
  
"I think you would regret it in the morning," he said, attempting to be a bit more sober. "Perhaps I should take you home."  
  
"Nope," she said, toying with a leftover celery stick. "I want to get over Jeff, what better way than to shag the nearest man?"  
  
Severus snorted into his beer. "Hey, I'm the nearest man, don't look at me."  
  
She narrowed her eyes and studied him. "Why not?"  
  
"Well, for starters Hermione, I'm married. And, we are friends. I'd like to stay friends after tonight. Then there's the little project we're working on with the American and Italian governments. Not to mention the fact that I'm married."  
  
"You said that already."  
  
"I know. I just wanted to emphasize it. Your tits are clouding the issue a bit for me, I have to admit. But, I'm married. That's it. Besides, shagging the nearest man isn't going to take the pain away. You have to work through it," he said.  
  
"Yeah, but I'd feel better tonight," she slurred. "Please, Severus?"  
  
The waitress chose that moment to drop by their table. He looked up at her. "I think we'd like our bill, if you please, miss."  
  
It wasn't much time before the illegally-Apparating pair was standing in Hermione's lounge, both swaying slightly from the alcohol and the fast journey. Hermione looked up at Severus with a pout. He groaned and waited for whatever she was going to say. He wasn't sure what was coming, but he was sure he wouldn't like it.  
  
"Don't you find me attractive?"  
  
'Shit,' he thought.  
  
"Of course I do, Hermione," he said carefully. "But we're both drunk right now. And no matter how much I would love to stay the night, it just isn't the right thing to do."  
  
"You want to stay?" she said, instantly moving to his side and placing a hand on his hip.  
  
'Shit, shit,' he thought blearily.  
  
"Well, I -" he stammered, wishing for a potion to sober him up and another to calm other parts of him down. "It wouldn't be fair to either of us, or to Sophie."  
  
"I didn't ask that," she said. "I asked if you wanted to stay."  
  
He looked at her dazed for a moment before answering, honestly, "yes."  
  
She kissed him then. And it wasn't until the sun coming through the lounge windows awoke them both the next morning that they realized the magnitude of what they had done.  
  
tbc 


	2. Chapter two

The morning after  
  
Severus lay nude on Hermione's hearth rug with his burning eyes squeezed shut against the harsh morning sun for some time, feigning sleep. He knew that once he opened his eyes, his life would change forever.  
  
Or perhaps it already had. All that was left was to face it.  
  
A muffled groan came from the woman sharing his rug and she rolled over.  
  
On top of him.  
  
She was warm, familiar and naked. And, gods help him, he wanted her again – despite everything. Merlin on a bike, this was completely wrong. He was married, albeit going through a rough patch, and she was seriously on a rebound – a rebound of less than 24-hours.  
  
'Shit, I've ruined our friendship and our working relationship' he thought, remembering their wizarding underground railroad plans. 'I can't do this. I just can't do this.'  
  
He cleared his throat and opened his eyes. Her eyes were screwed shut against the morning and he could see the pulse throbbing in her temple and in the side of her breast – which was obviously, painfully full and leaking copious amounts of milk onto his own bare chest. He was stunned to realize that it didn't bother him. Maybe it was because he had hoped to have a child with Sophie soon, despite their decision to cease trying. 'Or maybe,' a traitorous part of his brain said, 'maybe, it's because it is Hermione and you're completely comfortable with her no matter what.' He shook his head slightly, winced at the hang over headache it dislodged, and then filed that tidbit of information away in case he and his wife ever had children – then snorted. Hell, he'd be lucky if his wife ever spoke to him again. In response to the noise, Hermione shifted against him again.  
  
"Hermione," he said, softly, "Hermione, love, you need to wake up."  
  
"Jeff," she sleepily whined. "Just 10 more minutes, please?"  
  
All thoughts of shagging the lovely woman lounging on his chest again shot right out the window. He roughly pushed Hermione aside and stood. Surprised at his own sudden anger, he began searching the lounge for his clothing and a blanket or burp cloth to purge his skin of the warm milk – and her.  
  
"No, Hermione, it isn't Jeff," he spat. "So sorry, but you were lactating on the wrong man this morning. I'm so happy I ruined my marriage by fucking a woman who can't remember my name in the morning. It's so gratifying."  
  
"Severus!" she gasped, coming fully awake in an instant. "I – wait, what are you doing, we need to –"  
  
"Talk?" he growled. "That's what we should have done last night. Talk about our spouses. Talk about how we were feeling. But no, we have to wind up in bed and fuck everything up."  
  
"Actually," Hermione said, standing with her hands on her hips. "We didn't make it to the bed, I seem to remember you were so eager that I was bent over the back of the sofa instead. Then a little later, you pounded me into the floor. I'm sure my arse has the rug burns to prove it. Don't turn into the greasy git on me this morning, I can't handle it."  
  
"Greasy GIT! Well, I'm glad that I finally know how you really feel about me, Hermione. Nice to know you've always want to shag the 'greasy git,' I, however, never wanted to shag an infant know-it-all!"  
  
"Stop! Just stop. Severus, name calling isn't going to resolve this situation –"  
  
"Resolve? Oh good, please tell me you still have Dumbledore's old Time Turner hidden away?"  
  
"Don't be a smart arse."  
  
"Don't pretend we can resolve this. We can't. We're fucked, Hermione."  
  
"I know. I know."  
  
She began to pace angrily for a few moments before visibly forcing herself to calm down.  
  
"Yes, of course we need to talk. Not yell, talk. We're friends, Severus. We can handle this and the consequences together," she said, suddenly feeling naked, she wrapped a blanket from the back of the sofa around her shoulders and winced at the pain it caused in her engorged breasts. "Fuck, that hurts."  
  
She sat down on the sofa gingerly and proceeded to curl into a ball. Tears were forming in her suddenly haunted eyes, from the pain – both emotional and physical. Still furious and now searching out a stray sock, Severus locked eyes with his friend and felt his sudden anger dissipate. Sighing, he sat down next to her.  
  
Neither spoke.  
  
"Are you okay?" he said after a good 10 minutes of strained silence.  
  
"No," she said. "Actually, I'm not. I can't think straight. I'm hung over, my tits hurt like hell – and after all that alcohol I can't nurse even if she were here, and I forgot the non-engorgement charm last night, so now I'll have to pump and that hurts even worse. Not to mention the fact that my best friend now hates me because I forced him to –"  
  
"You didn't force me to do anything," he interrupted quietly. "I seem to recall being a very willing participant last night. All that you may have forced me to do was acknowledge the fact that I have feelings for you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Please don't make me repeat it, Hermione," he said, running a hand over his face tiredly. "It was difficult enough to admit in the first place. I am married, after all."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to digest what he just said. She had feelings for him as well – had a little crush on the cruel potions master since her sixth year, as a matter of fact. But that hadn't gotten in the way of their work or their friendship. Now, she thought, everything is probably ruined. 'And I'm lactating through the fucking blanket,' she thought ruefully. 'Joy. If that doesn't scare him off, nothing will.' Moments later, Severus broke the silence.  
  
"Where is your pump, Hermione?" he said, gently. She told him and he brought it to her, before going to her kitchen to rummage for breakfast and give his friend some measure of privacy. He tried not to notice the tears streaming down her cheeks as he watched her profile from his place at the stove. And he winced as he heard the Muggle electric contraption whir and her pained gasp as it went to work.  
  
'Ouch. Maybe Sophie and I don't want kids,' his inner voice automatically said before his conscience could remind him – again -- of his deeds. The magnitude of what had happened between Severus and Hermione suddenly hit him.  
  
'Oh, gods, Sophie,' he thought miserably. 'What the hell have I done to us?'  
  
He shuddered -- and the stoic man who had faced down Voldemort for years and lived to tell the tale leaned against the counter and wept as the pump's whirs filled the silence and the smell of burning eggs and toast polluted the air of his friend – and now lover's – home.

Tbc

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Sorry for the horrible, unbelievable delay. Real life, in the form of a toddler and my dissertation, attacked. But, I'm back and I need some fiction release, so look for regular updates once again. 


	3. Chapter three

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. The pair ate the ruined breakfast in silence and took turns in the shower. Severus did the breakfast dishes and helped Hermione wash and sterilize her pump and its confusing set of paraphernalia. At least the tubes, cones, bottles and piping were a momentary distraction. Their hands were busy.

Neither spoke.

But both of their minds were working overtime.

_'What have I done?'_ thought Severus, his mind frantic, while his hands were steady and sure as they washed dishes together. _'Good God, I have a wife and this is going to kill her. Or she'll kill me. I'm going to wind up divorced or gelded. Or both. And I deserve it. I am a bastard. I am just as much of a bastard as the Wizarding World always thought. I cheated on my wife. I cheated on my wife. I can't believe I did that. I was drunk. Yes, Severus you were drunk, but that's no excuse. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you? I love Sophie. Damnit, I have fucked everything up. It's all my fault. Sophie will never forgive me and I'll be lucky if Hermione ever speaks to me again. I'll miss her and Lizzie. Lizzie is like a daughter to me – oh, shit, we didn't use any birth control last night. I wish I knew what the incantation was to detect pregnancy. How early can I do it? I'll have to call Arthur in the states. If she's pregnant, we're well and truly fucked. There's no way we could hide what we did. Do I want to hide it though? I really should tell Sophie--Merlin, don't let her be pregnant.'_

_'What have I done?'_ thought Hermione, her mind spinning, watching with envy how Severus' hands were steady and sure as they washed dishes together – hers were still trembling with guilt, confusion and fear.. _'Good God, I slept with a married man, one whose wife I know and like. This is going to kill her. Or she'll kill me. I'm going to wind up divorced and dead. And I deserve it. I am a such a slut. Less than one day after my husband walks out on me-- and I can't keep my legs together for 24 hours? I can't believe I did that. I was drunk. Yes, Hermione you were drunk, but that's no excuse. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you? I still love Jeff. Damnit, I have fucked everything up. It's all my fault. Sophie will never forgive me and I'll be lucky if Severus ever speaks to me again. I'll miss him and our talks. Lizzie will have lost two of the most important men in her life in one weekend-- Lizzie is like a daughter to Severus – oh, shit, we didn't use any birth control last night. If I'm pregnant, we're really and truly fucked. Jeff will never, ever forgive menow or take me back.There's no way we could hide what we did. Does he want to hide it though? We really should tell Sophie --Merlin, don't let me be pregnant.'_

The chaos roiling in the other's mind hidden, the pair moved from the kitchen and began to tidy up the lounge. Once it was organized, Severus sat on the sofa, dejectedly staring at the dark television while Hermione watched him. Breaking three hours of silence, Hermione finally telephoned her mother around noon, who said she would immediately bring Lizzie home. The little girl had been temperamental since last evening, wanting to be in her mother's arms, she said before hanging up the phone.

Thirty minutes later, Val showed up with Lizzie in tow. The seven-month-old girl gurgled and giggled when she saw Hermione, reaching for her and giving her a very sloppy, almost kiss on the cheek. The two women stood cooing over the baby and discussing the minutia of baby care: how many diapers she had gone through, how much she had eaten and how long she had slept – until Severus wandered dazedly into the foyer from the downstairs loo.

"Severus," Val said, surprised, "what are you still doing here?"

He stopped, guilt easily read in his eyes and face, even to Hermione's mother. He shot a look from Val to Hermione and slipped quickly into what he once jokingly called his 'old spy mode.' Face suddenly expressionless and voice cold, he replied:

"We had a little too much to drink last night, Val," he lied smoothly. "I decided to take Hermione up on her offer to sleep in the lounge. And I wanted to see Lizzie before I left today, so we've been enjoying a nice, quiet morning together."

Hermione's mother set the diaper bag down with a thump and stared at her twitching daughter and her stoic friend. She wondered if they realized how obvious it was that they had become lovers.

"I see," said Val, not buying any of it. "You know, I'm not one of those seers that you people have in your world. But I know a guilty conscience when I see one. The two of you might as well have 'we slept together' tattooed on your foreheads. It's just radiating off of both of you."

"Mum –" began Hermione.

"I suggest," interrupted Val, glaring at her daughter and her lover, "that you settle some things before you go to your next railroad meeting. Otherwise, everyone is going to know -- including that very nice wife of yours, Severus."

Unable to come up with a snappy comeback, the former Potions Master stood mutely, toying with Lizzie's plump hand and staring at her tiny fingernails.

"And you, young lady, I am very disappointed in you," she continued. "You were raised better."

The pair stood silent.

"I'll leave you two to resolve things."

She slammed the door as she left. After standing in stunned stillness for a moment, Severus picked up Lizzie's overnight bag and headed for the nursery. Following him, Hermione sat down in the rocking chair and began to nurse her child while he unpacked. Once finished, he turned, sat on the floor in front of her chair and watched her for a few moments. He opened and shut his mouth several times as if he wanted to speak, but he didn't.

It appeared to Hermione that her mother's little speech had moved him to action, and she waited for him to find his tongue.

"You really are beautiful when you nurse her," he said, suddenly. "I've always been surprised by how moved I am to see you two like this. I had thought it was because I wanted children of my own, but after last night, I'm not sure. Maybe it was you all along, Hermione."

She just looked at him and flashed him a small smile.

"I'm not sure where to go from here," he said, pleadingly. "I've been in a lot of tight situations, spying for Dumbledore, but I have to admit this is one of the most mind-boggling. I find myself convinced that I need to tell Sophie, but –"

"But what, Severus?"

"I'm not sure if I want her to forgive me or not when I do."

Hermione looked up in shock as that little revelation exploded in the pink room like a bomb – surprising them both with its frankness. Looking at her daughter, she sighed and decided that such honesty deserved the same in return.

"I have a confession to make myself," she began, moving her drowsy daughter to her other breast to continue nursing. He sat, taciturn, waiting for her to continue, with his eyes glued to her daughter's slowly moving rosebud mouth. "Severus, I had a crush on you back at Hogwarts. You were one of the few men I've ever developed a crush like that on, and probably the only one I liked for more than his looks."

"I think I should be insulted," he said, attempting a joke.

"No, you should be complimented."

"Thank you, then."

"You're welcome. To make a long confession short, I've always found you attractive. The way you have dedicated yourself to helping wizards immigrate, and the way you are with Lizzie has only increased how attractive you are to me. I like the way you look at her when you hold her. And, I liked the way you looked at me last night."

"I shouldn't have looked, let alone touched," he said, grimacing and rubbing his face wearily. "But, I'm not sure I completely regret it. I am sorry for the timing, however. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you while you were so depressed and I should never have touched you while still married."

"You didn't take advantage of me, but I understand what you are saying."

"Good. Now, give me that little girl, I'll get her settled while you get readjusted." He took the sleeping baby from her mother's arms and bent her gently over his shoulder in an attempt to coax a sleepy burp, before placing her in her bed with a kiss. Fully-dressed, Hermione joined him at the side of the crib.

"You really do care about us and love us, don't you?" she asked softly, almost afraid about the answer.

"You know I love you both. It's just the 'romantic love' part I'm confused about, Hermione," he said. Turning to her, he brushed her curls over her shoulder so he could knead it gently. "It wasn't just sex, you know. Not to me. And it sounds like it was more than just shagging to you, as well."

"It was."

"Good. There's one conclusion to our dilemma. It is more than sex. Now, what the hell do we do?" he smirked. "Should I tell Sophie? I think she'd buy the 'we got drunk and I slept in the lounge' story. It's a partial truth and I'm usually very good at telling partial truths."

"I think you should wait to tell her the whole truth," said Hermione, her face suddenly coloring the red he knew meant she was upset about something. "I don't want to wreck your marriage, unless –"

"Unless you're pregnant," he said.

"Yes," she replied. "We can test in a week. Then we'll have some more to talk about."

"You don't want the potion, then?" he said.

"Do you really want me to take it?"

A pause.

A sigh.

"No. And I don't know why, considering Sophie and I stopped trying last month ourselves, so please do not ask me to explain it."

"I'm glad you feel that way, it would interfere with nursing Lizzie and I am dedicated to doing it the full year the doctor recommended. Besides, what are the odds?"

He put his arm around her and led her to the door, pausing to flip off the light switch.

"With our luck, my dear? You might as well start calling me 'Daddy' and start packing for Italy."

tbc


End file.
